


Boogaloo

by mrua7



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Music, Partnership, Spies & Secret Agents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-04-21
Packaged: 2018-10-22 00:00:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10685601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrua7/pseuds/mrua7
Summary: Illya drags Napoleon to a Latin street festival.





	Boogaloo

 

 

  
  
                             

 

“Come with me Napoleon, I guarantee you will enjoy yourself,” Illya waved his hand for his partner to follow him. The blond was dressed casually in a pair of tight-fitting blue jeans, an equally snug black t-shirt, and had a pair of sunglasses balanced on top of his head.

Napoleon’s idea of casual was a polo shirt, sports jacket and dress pants...

“I don’t know, street festivals and open air markets are not really my thing.  I prefer fine dining and shopping on Fifth Avenue, thank you.”

 

“Yes you may prefer that but your wallet cannot support your habits, given how frequently you borrow money from me.” The Russian smiled.

Napoleon was taken aback by that statement.”I pay you back don’t I?”

“Yes you do...eventually.” Illya paused, hearing Latin music in the distance, and for a moment, went into a quick Mambo step, swaying his hips to the music while moving his arms gracefully in time with rhythms. He stopped, raising his nose to the breeze as it was filled with the scents of all sorts of delicious smelling foods.”

He looked at his partner. “Does that not call to you?”

“Hmm, getting your money’s worth at Arthur Murray’s I see.”

“Napoleon!” Illya shook his head.

Solo shrugged, and simply followed his partner to humor him, as it was rare that Illya became that animated by something enough to want company.

They were there in the middle of it within a few minutes, La Marqueta, under the elevated  railway tracks between 111th Street and 116th Street on Park Avenue in East Harlem. There were hundreds of vendors, selling anything from food, traditional medicines, recordings of Latin music, and clothing to supplies for charms and curses for those into such things.

Illya headed straight to one of the food vendors, telling his partner to wander if he wished.

“Either eat with me or go have a good time. I am sure you will find something to interest you,” he looked at his watch. “Meet me by the band stand in a half hour as there is a group of musicians I want to hear, their style of music is quite infectious...it is called “boogaloo”

“Boogaloo, never heard of it. You’re not kidding me are you?”

“No I am not, “ Illya tried to not look upset.

Okay chum, whatever makes you happy.” Napoleon cringed, Mantovani was more his style. Illya was a jazz lover, but he was also open to a lot of musical styles.

Illya ordered cuchifritos and a drink called ajoniolé, made from sesame seeds. He finished his food as the musicians began to warm up on the stage, and finally the band started playing.  Illya searched the crowd for his partner, not able to enjoy the music until he was sure Napoleon was all right.  Still the sound was enticing and he found himself swaying to the rhythms, suddenly dancing with a dark-haired beauty who wiggled herself up next to him as partner.

Together she and the Russian, spun and rocked to the wild rhythms, smiling their enjoyment to each other.

When the set was over she disappeared before he could ask her name, and again Illya resumed scanning the crowds for his partner.  Finally Solo appeared, with two gorgeous Latinas, each one holding onto his arms, and smiling as they threw back their dark haired manes of hair, laughing at what Napoleon had said to amuse them.

Illya couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “I see you found something to catch your eye after all.”

“To say the least, partner mine. Umm....thanks for convincing me to come along,” yet there was hesitation in his voice.

“Do not tell me, you wish to borrow money,” Illya deadpanned.

Napoleon nodded, and Illya, of course, pulled out his wallet.

“I’ll give it back to you next payday.”

“I will add it to your account,” The Russian replied dryly, watching the ladies man, Napoleon Solo, stroll off with his companions.

The band started their second set, and out of nowhere Illya’s dance partner reappeared.

“Hola de nuevo guapo_ hello handsome,” she smiled.

“Hola de nuevo, bast ante dama. Hello again pretty lady,” He smiled back at her, forgetting about his partner for now as he swayed and thrust his hips to the Latin beat, with his lovely companion matching him move for move....


End file.
